The Rancher's Return. Karen Whiddon
and reared up. She almost fell, but held on to the saddle horn and managed to keep her seat.
“Good job,” Reed said. “Now ride!”
This time, she didn’t wait for him to slap her horse. She dug her heels into the animal’s side and took off. As they raced for the barn, thunder booming and rain pelting them, she knew she wore a grin a mile wide. Aware Reed would think she was crazy if he saw it, she restrained herself from shouting with joy into the wind.
She felt more alive in this instant than she could ever remember feeling. Exhilarated, energized and oddly defiant.
With more thunder, the boom was so loud it shook the earth. The air around them sizzled with electricity, which meant lightning had hit nearby.
Fifty feet away the sky opened up. The wind lashed the rain sideways, whipping her with her own wet hair. She knew she looked like a crazy woman, but she couldn’t stop laughing as she rode into the barn.
Maybe Reed understood or perhaps he just didn’t want to know, but he said nothing as he swung down from his soaked horse. He crossed to her and held out his hand, as if he thought she’d need help dismounting.
Instead, she waved him away. Pushing her drenched and tangled hair away from her face, she slid from the saddle.
Turning, she nearly crashed into him.
He reached out to steady her and just like that, her smile vanished and she froze.
Hands on her upper arms, he stared. “Are you...are you all right?”
Heaven help her, she tried to nod, but her breath caught in her throat and it was all she could do to breathe. Wrenching away, she sucked in air and tried to regain her equilibrium.
While Reed stood watching, clearly not understanding what was wrong.
“Kaitlyn. I’m sorry.” His deep voice revealed his confusion. “I’ll ask you again. Are you okay?”
“Maybe.” Keeping her back to him, wondering. “And maybe not. I think I might be going crazy. One minute, I’m thrilled to be alive, and the next, I’m...” She stopped, unable to finish.
“Well, if you’re able, unsaddle your horse. We need to get the saddles off and the horse brushed down. At least the rain should have cooled them off so we won’t need to walk them.”
More grateful than she could articulate at the return to normalcy, she got busy doing exactly what he’d said.
Reed knew enough about post-traumatic stress disorder to understand what had happened. His touch had sent Kaitlyn back. Back to that awful place where a touch had meant torture, a beating or rape. He clenched his jaw and seethed with anger at the man who’d done this to her.
One thing he remembered about Kaitlyn Nuhn was the way she’d always been brimming with life. Even alone, her positive energy brightened the room. He’d seen her joy in the race against the storm; hell, he’d caught some of the excitement, too.
And then to see it all quashed by a casual touch... He shook his head. Stuff like that made it difficult to focus.
After helping Kaitlyn remove the saddle from her horse, he carried it into the tack room and set it on the wooden tree, drying it off with a towel. Then he did the same with his and grabbed a couple more towels from the small stack and two curry brushes. Handing one of each to Kaitlyn, he returned to his mare and began drying her coat before he started brushing out the sweat. The rhythmic sounds as he brushed never failed to soothe him.
Except now, he felt overly aware of the woman next to him, doing the same thing. He hoped the simple repetitive motion might bring her some peace.
His cell phone rang. “Hey, Brock,” he answered. “What’s up?”
“Someone broke into your house.” Brock sounded pissed. “I just left there. The police are still there. And they assigned that idiot George to investigate.”
Reed swore. “He’s probably the one who broke in. He called me wanting to search my house. I told him to get a warrant.”
“Search for what?”
“Tim’s old girlfriend.” In his peripheral vision, he saw Kaitlyn flinch.
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